


Two hearts, full of love

by jijal



Category: BTOB (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29897457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jijal/pseuds/jijal
Summary: The last thing Changsub wanted was to run into Eunkwang — until he does.
Relationships: Lee Changsub/Seo Eunkwang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Les Astres: BTOB Fic Exchange





	Two hearts, full of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twahtohnedskee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twahtohnedskee/gifts).



> three weeks late (not that it matters) and written based on a confused idea of what nostalgia really is, this should definitely be. better. that being said i had a lot of fun writing this and do hope you find something enjoyable about it, even if my brain wasnt all too cooperative in sticking to your prompt... （/｡＼)♡

Changsub would be lying if he said a wedding invitation hadn't been one of the last thngs he'd expected to come home to. It’d come as no surprise that Minhyuk would be the first one to tie the knot, with his high school sweetheart that he had dumped and got back together with on three different occasions if Changsub were to trust his memory, but they hadn’t seen each other in years. They’d had no reason to, really. If anything, they’d had plenty of reasons _not to_.

Still, Changsub decided to go, to put the past behind him like he’d tried so many times before, even if just for a night. Even if just to get drunk and regret it when he’d wake up hungover in the morning for free. Even if just to prove to himself that he was over— over all of it. All the memories he had managed to bury since graduation, all the places, all the people — the one person he hadn’t allowed himself to think about ever since things had fallen apart. Perhaps then he’d believe his own lies and move on like he should have years ago. Apparently, Minhyuk had, even if it was never his heartbreak to grapple with. Their friendship ending had been but collateral damage.

The reception was gorgeous, the venue decorated from top to bottom with breeds of flowers Changsub couldn’t name and so much detail he couldn’t help but wonder how much money they’d blown on it. Minhyuk seemed genuinely happy to see him, pulling him in for a quick hug without a hint of hesitation, and Changsub felt stupid for thinking he wouldn’t be.

“So great to see you,” Minhyuk said when he pulled back. “Did you come alone?”

“Yeah,” Changsub said, keen not to dwell on the question or any of its implications. It felt like a jab, even if Minhyuk didn’t mean it to.

“Well, you might see a familiar face or two, anyway,” he smiled at him, gave Changsub a quick pat on the shoulder and excused himself, and the ever-building dread Changsub had been able to forget about came back with a _pang_. It only slowly subsided over the course of the next few hours; despite what Minhyuk had said, the only face Changsub thought looked vaguely familiar in the sea of people was a guy he might’ve been introduced to as one of Minhyuk’s friends back at University. However, chances of his brain playing tricks on him were equally as high, he concluded and decided to stick to himself until it was late enough and socially acceptable to go home. He does get roped into small talk eventually, but it dies as quickly as it began, Changsub shooting the woman an awkward smile before turning away from her again.

A tap on his shoulder after dinner has him jump in his seat and his head snap up, and—

“Oh—”

His heart skips a beat. The familiar face Minhyuk had promised him, right in front of him.

“— _hyung_.”

His head wiped clean of anything intelligent to say, Changsub can’t do anything but stare, stare at the only familiar face he’s laid eyes on since Minhyuk left him to himself an eternity ago.

“Hey,” Eunkwang says, the word like a punch to Changsub’s gut. The shy smile on Eunkwang’s face finally reaches his eyes, and Changsub does his best to return it.

Thankful to skip any awkward small talk, they escape outside for a breath of fresh air. The music from inside is quiet, only faintly audible from where they sit down on the wooden bench under a big, old tree, and Eunkwang talks about what he’s been doing the last few years while Changsub just listens. Sure, he could tell Eunkwang about his boring life, about how he lives near Hangang now, about how nothing has been making much sense since his father got sick, but he likes listening to him talk so much more; he isn’t sure how he’s gone years without hearing the smile in Eunkwang’s voice when he speaks. It used to be one of his favourite things in the world.

“What about you?”

He could tell Eunkwang about his new cat, about his promotion only a month ago, or about how he had hoped not to run into him at this wedding and how much of an asshole he feels for thinking that thought now, but none of it feels appropriate, or important enough to bring up, even if Eunkwang would love to hear about whatever it is going on in Changsub’s life.

“Same old, same old,” he mutters, shooting Eunkwang a tight-lipped smile, and Eunkwang looks unconvinced, but lets him be. Changsub had almost forgotten how much space Eunkwang is willing to give with no discussion, at all. He always understands, even the things Changsub doesn’t say, and the words he wouldn’t dare to say out loud.

“Did you come alone?”

“Yeah,” Changsub breathes out, and he wants to say more this time, to elaborate like Eunkwang probably wants him to, but he can’t for the life of him think of anything that’s worth the minimal effort of talking. As silence settles between them, he tilts his head back and stares up at the dark night sky stretching above them, not a single star visible. His eyes dart from one spot to the other, finding nothing to see again and again. It feels somewhere between comforting and horrifying.

His head snaps up when Eunkwang gets up from the bench, and gestures for Changsub to do the same.

“Hyung, what…,” Changsub about manages to say, and Eunkwang pulls him up by his hand and pulls him close, wraps his arms around Changsub’s neck. His heart jumps into his throat and goosebumps race across his skin, but his hands slide down Eunkwang’s waist in turn without hesitation. He tries not to think about how it all still feels so painfully familiar. He’d rather not remember.

“What if someone sees us?” he asks instead, the spike of fear inside of him another remnant of the past, a remnant of a self he thought he’d managed left behind by now.

“That’s okay,” Eunkwang murmurs into his shoulder. Changsub has lost count how many times they’ve been here exactly, and if it didn’t remind him of the end as much as it does the beginning, he’d say it’s almost romantic. Slowly, gently, swaying to the song playing inside, Eunkwang’s warm body against his for the first time in years. He still makes Changsub’s heart race, and still holds him as if they were twenty and in love.

“I missed you,” Eunkwang says so easily, so casually, it makes Changsub’s stomach do a flip. “I should’ve called, or texted, or—or something.”

“We’re all busy. It’s not your fault,” Changsub says matter-of-factly; he never blamed any of them for losing touch. People change, grow apart, lose sight of each other whether they mean to or not. Life, work, time gets in the way, and Changsub became all too accustomed to letting it happen and telling himself things were better this way.

Eunkwang chuckles lightly, and the sound has Changsub bite back a smile, even though there isn’t a single star in the sky to see it.

"You haven't changed one bit,” Eunkwang gently teases him, and Changsub scoffs.

“I miss you, too,” he says, even though he doesn’t have to. It sounds clumsy, unnatural coming out of his mouth, but Eunkwang tightens his arms around his neck, and it’s enough to make Changsub feel better about his weak attempt at feelings. Resting his head against Changsub’s, Eunkwang hums the melody of a song they used to sing together. When all they had was each other, when things weren’t easy, but simpler. Somewhere deep inside Changsub’s chest, it stings.

He hasn’t heard that song since he broke Eunkwang’s heart. 

Even now, it hurts to remember, to think about everything he destroyed, everything he left behind. To think about Eunkwang, too kind to not hold Changsub’s own shortcomings against him, too kind to hold Changsub's hand when he didn't want him to. He’d deserved better than to be kept a secret, had always been someone to show off, to never stop talking about. He could’ve rivalled the sun, could’ve put the brightest summer day to shame, if only Changsub hadn’t been too much of a coward to let him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, even though he doesn’t have to, and Eunkwang draws back. He looks tired, like no matter how much sleep he gets, he’ll never be able to catch up, but Changsub dares to look into his eyes, still so full of love and a part of him he’d long thought dead comes back to life. How selfish it is to ask for forgiveness after all these years, he thinks, to let Eunkwang comfort him when it should’ve always been the other way around.

“I know,” Eunkwang says, and Changsub believes him. “Don’t feel bad about it.”

“Sometimes, I wish we—, I—I hadn’t…,” Changsub says, but falters. He lightly shakes his head. How selfish it is to ask for a second chance, to ask for more after all that Eunkwang has given him. “Sorry. I shouldn’t—“

“No, me too,” Eunkwang cuts him off softly, his eyes flickering down to Changsub’s lips and up again. “I missed you. I meant it.”

How selfish it’d be to just say _yes_ , believe Eunkwang’s words and forgive himself for his mistakes like Eunkwang did. How selfish, how easy.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Eunkwang says firmly, holding Changsub’s gaze. “We were young, and things were scary, and I never blamed you for not being ready.”

Changsub opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t deserve Eunkwang, not his kindness, his warmth, or his sweet voice humming old songs into his ear when he’s upset. He wants to protest, can’t bear the thought of having to see Eunkwang get hurt if things go wrong again.

Something between a sob and a sigh escapes Changsub’s throat and he looks away, up at the sky, and Eunkwang wordlessly closes the little distance between them, pulls Changsub in for a hug, gentle and warm and comforting and safe. He dares to breathe, lets out a faint exhale and relaxes into Eunkwang’s touch.

“Thank you,” he says when he’s sure his voice won’t fail him, and Eunkwang runs his hand over Changsub’s back before standinig up straight and cockinig his head to look at Changsub again.

“So?” he asks, the beginning of a smile already pulling up the corners of his lips. “New start?”

“Yeah,” Changsub breathes out, his heart about to break out of his chest, restlessly hammering against his ribcage, “yeah, I’d love that."

There are a hundred things he wants to say, a thousand sorry’s bottled up inside of him that haven’t let him rest, but Eunkwang captures Changsub’s lips with his own, soft and careful and forgiving and kind, takes his hand and runs his thumb across his skin as if to say, _this is enough_.


End file.
